


Ten-Date Rule

by belmanoir



Series: Twenty Dates [1]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Finn/Roman, First Time, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 04:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belmanoir/pseuds/belmanoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Finn hesitates, grimacing. “I have, um—I should tell you upfront I have a ten-date rule. I know that’s a dealbreaker for a lot of guys so if you want to back out now, no hard feelings. But I don’t—I’ve learned I need to be really comfortable with someone or the sex is just awful. So you know—some kissing and stuff is fine, but no sex till the tenth date.”</em> </p><p>Set shortly after the 7/25/16 episode of Raw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten-Date Rule

Roman sees Finn heading out of the building in his street clothes, still sweaty and flushed from his workout. On impulse, he speeds up and catches the door. “Hey man, great match yesterday.”

Finn gives him that cocky _I’m Irish, we invented luck_ grin. “Thanks, you too.” He holds out his hand to shake.

It’s not a big hand, but it feels nice in his, a strong grip and rough at the fingertips. Roman doesn’t like a lot of people, so when he does, he tries to jump on it. “You want to get a drink sometime?”

Finn looks him up and down. Stupid question, huh? He probably doesn’t want any part of Roman’s mess. Then he says, “You mean like a date?”

Huh. Roman didn’t—at least, not yet—but he goes with it, shrugging and ducking his head. “Maybe.”

Finn’s eyes narrow. “You’re married, aren’t you?”

An upstanding guy. Good to know. Roman shows off his ring. “Been together since college. Me and Galina have a deal, though. It’s cool.”

A relieved smile breaks out on Finn's face. “Then yeah. Sounds great.” 

“You doing anything right now?”

“Not in the least. Well, showering, but after that.” He hesitates, grimacing. “I have, um—I should tell you upfront I have a ten-date rule. I know that’s a dealbreaker for a lot of guys so if you want to back out now, no hard feelings. But I don’t—I’ve learned I need to be really comfortable with someone or the sex is just awful. So you know—some kissing and stuff is fine, but no sex till the tenth date.”

Roman blinks. Ten dates? That’s—it’s not that he can’t be patient, he’s just a little stunned that Finn is already thinking as far ahead as ten whole dates after one match.

“And it gives the demon time to get used to you.”

Roman laughs.

Finn winces, his answering laugh strained. “So are you okay with that?”

Roman shrugs. Now that sex with Finn is off the table, he suddenly wants it even more, but that’s just human nature. “Sure. I can take things slow.” 

Finn grins at him. “You’ve got a really nice accent, has anyone ever told you that?”

Roman cracks up.

“I was being serious,” Finn says. “You have something you want to do for a first date in mind?”

No. “I’ve been thinking about seeing Dwayne’s new movie,” Roman says doubtfully. He hasn’t been thinking about it that hard. His mom already told him all about how hilarious Dwayne was in it and repeated what Roman assumes were most of the good jokes.

“I, uh...” Finn hesitates. 

Roman can’t remember the last time he laughed this much at work. “Not your speed, huh?”

He’s way too charmed by Finn’s rueful smile. “Not really. What do you say we hang out in my room for a few hours?”

*

Finn opens the door grinning, his hair still wet from the shower. “I bought us raspberries.”

“Awesome,” Roman says. 

“I know raspberries are usually a disappointment, but I tried them and they’re really good.” Finn tossing berries into his mouth shouldn’t be so sexy. He opens his laptop with his other hand. “Are you watching any shows right now?”

“I usually just watch whatever’s on.”

Finn gapes at him. “You don’t have Netflix or Hulu Plus or anything?”

Roman shakes his head. “Galina has Netflix. Sometimes I use the account so we can watch stuff together over the phone.” He doesn’t get the point of watching TV by yourself. It’s not nearly as much fun and it’s a time suck.

There’s a long pause. “Have you seen _Adventure Time_?”

“I...might have caught an episode or two?”

And that’s that. Finn sets his laptop carefully on the bed, then glances at Roman. There isn’t anywhere else to sit. “This is okay, right? I’m not trying to be a tease or anything.”

“I like teases.” Roman’s slow smile probably goes goofy when Finn gulps, but hey, Finn is the last person on earth to object to that, right?

*

Roman isn’t sure exactly what Finn means by “some kissing”, and doesn’t want to ask and seem pushy. But Finn leans up and gives him a quick peck on the mouth as Roman is leaving, and they smile at each other for a few more goofy seconds before Finn laughs and shuts the door.

*

“Wasn’t Venom a rebranding?” Roman asks. “I thought Spider-man just...you know, turned. And got new gear.”

Finn shakes his head emphatically. It’s date four and they’re about two hours into Spider-man 101. Roman’s weirdly enjoying himself. “Venom’s an alien symbiote that can look like a suit.” He pauses. “Can I ask you something personal?”

That means he probably wants to ask about Seth or the boos. It’s nice of him to ask permission first, anyway, even if Roman doesn’t really want to talk about either. “My hair care regimen is top secret. Anything else is fair game.” 

“Why didn’t you get new gear after the Shield broke up?”

Oh. He can talk about that. “I just never got around to it, I guess. Seth designed it, and it fits and I know how to move in it, and I don’t know what I’d wear instead.”

“You could ask creative to draw up some concepts.”

“Do you really think it matters that much?”

Finn’s eyes nearly start from his head. “Do I think gimmicks matter? Obviously. I mean, you want to capture the fans’ imagination, right?”

“You just wear black trunks and a jacket, dude.”

“I’ve got the _demon._ ” Finn is clearly horrified at this assessment. “I just think...people look at you and the only story you’re telling them is that you were in the Shield.”

Roman shrugs. Finn’s right, it’s probably not the smartest thing from a marketing angle, but he’s not sure what else there is to know about him. 

“Here’s the thing,” Finn says with conviction, “you’ve got to think about the fanartists. Like, if they were drawing you in your gear, what’s the mood? What does it add to the narrative?” 

Roman makes a face.

“People must send you fanart.”

“Yeah, sure. Me and Dean and Seth used to laugh our asses off.”

Finn looks even more horrified. Roman should go easier on the poor guy’s illusions. “Not publicly.”

“Of course not.”

“You really don’t like your fanart? But...people are letting you into their dreams. They’re making you part of their inner life. It’s such a privilege.”

Roman never thought of it that way. Liking your own fanart always just seemed like having a swelled head, one step away from being Tyler Breeze. Plus most of it’s bad, and no one draws his nose big enough. “Maybe yours is better than mine.”

Finn smiles. “I do have some pretty talented fans.” He hesitates. “I’m not a great sketch artist or anything, but if you ever do want new gear, I could come up with a bunch of ideas to get you started thinking. If you were interested, and we were still dating.”

It’s a really sweet offer, even if Roman isn’t all that interested. “I’ll think about it. Thanks.”

Finn tugs on a lock of his hair. “Is your hair care regimen really off-limits?”

“Seth Rollins would kill for my secrets.”

Finn laughs, startled, and Roman doesn’t want to be pushy but it’s date four and yesterday Finn curled up with his head in Roman’s lap for _The Force Awakens_ and it can’t hurt to ask politely, right? 

“No pressure, but I feel like when you were explaining the whole ten date thing to me, you said some kissing was okay.” 

Finn looks extremely pleased.

“No pressure,” Roman repeats, hiding a smile because he can already tell Finn is going to—

Finn wraps Roman’s hair around his fist and pulls him in for a kiss.

*

Roman slings his duffel bag onto the locker room bench and takes a deep breath. One more day. He can do this. He’ll train, he’ll eat dinner with somebody, he’ll wrestle, he’ll go home. No big.

Maybe he’ll go home with Finn, at least for a few hours.

After all this time, he still misses training with the Shield. 

He isn’t used to the new Raw roster yet, that’s all. He misses seeing Dean in the locker room. He's almost glad Seth is still around. It gives him something to push against, something to hold him together. Like that weird live suit of Spider-man’s.

Someone strikes his shoulder with an open palm. Several times. Roman swings around, his fist going back.

It’s Finn, bouncing on his heels and shoving his phone in Roman’s face. Oh. “New _Rogue One_ trailer!” He hands Roman an earbud. That’s kind of gross but Roman puts it in his ear anyway. 

“Hey,” he says after he’s said the movie looks really awesome. “Do you want me to show you some counters for Seth’s moves?”

Finn bites his lip. “I’ve been thinking this over for a while now.” He gives Roman a crooked smile. “I, uh, maybe I’ll regret this later when Seth Rollins gets me in the Pedigree, but I think I need to have this match for myself. It’s early days yet for us. I’d rather you keep seeing me as Finn and not some kind of weapon in your hand, if you see what I mean.”

Roman grins. “Your weapon hasn’t been in my hand yet.” He wasn’t really expecting the rebuff, and it stings a little—but he feels warm too. Finn’s right, it’s early days. Roman isn’t sure _he’d_ give up an advantage in a title match just to preserve his relationship with someone he’d dated six times.

Finn snickers and slaps him on the shoulder again. “I wouldn’t say no to a turn in the ring, though.”

Later, Roman is worn out and banged up and enjoying the endorphins, but he enjoys it a lot more when Finn looks around, kisses him quickly on the forehead, and says, “I think that counts as a date, don’t you?”

*

Tenth date. Roman isn’t sure if the rule means tonight is the night, or just that tonight is the first possible night. Finn bought raspberries again, as an anniversary thing...or maybe he just likes raspberries. 

Finn puts like five raspberries in his mouth, swallows them without chewing, fidgets with the container, then sets it down abruptly. “So. Ten dates.”

“Yep.” Roman holds his breath.

“You, uh, you wanna make the beast with two backs? I mean, not that specifically we have to be in missionary position.” 

Roman slow-smiles at him. “Do you have a position in mind?”

Finn grins back. “Loads, actually. I think fantasizing about you now takes approximately half my mental energy? It’s amazing I’ve managed to win any matches at all.”

Roman’s own fantasies have been lacking in detail. He wants an orgasm.

Which makes it sound like he just wants to get his rocks off, but that isn’t the point at all. He wants...he wants to burn, to go white-hot, to turn into pure light in Finn’s hands. He’s not about to say that out loud. “Any top picks?”

Finn sits cross-legged on the bed. “I keep thinking about tying you up. Too much for a first time I expect, but you know, for future reference.” He looks mischievously up at Roman, eyes shining, and Roman starts to burn.

He used to let Seth tie him to the bed sometimes, and now his blood runs cold at how stupid it was to trust anyone that much. He still wants it, though. Part of him even wants it with Seth, believes that if Seth could just hurt Roman as much as he wants and get it out of his system, maybe they could both have some peace. Which is why he can’t do it anymore. He barely knows Finn, even if his skin is crawling and shimmering with heat at the idea of it.

“How about a compromise?” he suggests. “You tie my hands together, and I won’t move unless you say I can.”

Finn grins. “Good compromise.”

*

Roman is naked, arms stretched over his head, wrists bound with a wrinkled necktie Finn dug out of the bottom of his suitcase. Finn is naked too. His hips and cock are beautiful but somehow it’s seeing his bare calves and feet that’s turning Roman on even more. He crouches above Roman, not touching him. Roman grits his teeth as Finn jacks his own cock, his eyes going everywhere.

Finn laughs breathlessly at the look on his face. “Possess thy soul in patience.”

Roman growls at him, hiding a smile that takes him by surprise. It reminds him of that first match with Finn, when he should have been angry or frustrated or in despair and instead he remembered that...this can be fun.

Sex can be fun too. Even in this part of his life, the WWE part.

Finn falls to his hands and knees with a gasp—or rather, his hand and knees, because he’s still jerking off. Still not touching Roman, even though he’s so close Roman can feel the heat from his chest. When he strains up against his imaginary bonds, the tips of Finn’s hair brush his shoulder.

“Just checking you’d keep your promise.” Finn drops down onto Roman and kisses him, skin on skin lips on lips, and it’s all Roman can do not to throw him off only because he’s so _hot_ , he’s burning up. A shout is building in his throat.

Finn rocks back onto his heels, looking down at Roman in satisfaction. His eyes narrow thoughtfully. “How do you feel about ice cubes?”

“I like them in my Pepsi.” Roman’s voice comes out hoarse. He knows that isn’t what Finn means, but he’s never thought about it particularly. It looks sexy in the movies but it’s not something real people do, is what he would have said five minutes ago.

“Let’s give it a shot. Don’t move while I’m gone.” Pulling on his briefs, Finn eyes his very visible erection. He shrugs, puts on the robe from the closet too, grabs the ice bucket and wanders out into the hallway. The door slams shut behind him.

Roman doesn’t move. He wants to move, but he doesn’t. He promised. That’s all that’s holding him here, but he wants it to be enough. He aches all over with restlessness. His nipples throb. His cock, lying along his stomach, trembles desperately when he breathes. What would Finn do if he came back and Roman was touching himself?

He’d kind of like to find out, but he waits.

Finn comes back in, shaking the ice bucket with a cheery clinking noise. “Some people really hate this, so if you’re one of them just stop me, but I think it’ll be awesome.” He drops the robe and peels off the boxers, setting the bucket down on the nightstand and straddling Roman in one graceful movement. 

Roman waits for him to reach into the bucket, but instead he frowns, slithers down, and even though Roman sees where this is going it’s still a shock when his cock ends up in Finn’s mouth. Roman bites his lip hard, swallowing his shout.

Finn doesn’t tease. His head bobs and he jacks Roman at the same time and Roman is going to burst into flames—

He pulls off. “Tell me when you’re getting close.”

“I’m close.” Roman hides another smile at Finn’s flattered expression. 

“So this is going good, right? Not secretly awful and you’re just thinking of England.”

“I pretty much never think about England.”

Finn laughs delightedly and scoops an ice cube out of the bucket. It’s one of those long skinny ones that come out of machines and refrigerators, and Finn drops it in the center of Roman’s chest.

He jumps. The ice cube lies there, stinging and melting. Finn slides it down his belly and back up, a wide freezing stripe. Roman trembles, muscles contracting away from the cold.

Finn rubs the ice directly over his nipple. Squeezing his eyes shut to keep from making noise, Roman doesn’t see the bait-and-switch coming until Finn’s hot mouth closes over his cold nipple.

He doesn’t shout, but he makes a noise, a horrible guttural grunt, eyes flying open. Grinning, Finn drops the last sliver of ice cube in his mouth, crunching it as he reaches for another one. 

After that it goes quickly, or slowly, or—Roman doesn’t know. He just knows there’s a path of ice and heat everywhere, tracing the lines of his tattoo, curving painfully up his inner thigh, Finn’s tongue is on his inner thigh and his skin wants to get away from the ice and press up into Finn at the same time and he doesn’t know if this is pain or pleasure but he’s feeling, he’s _feeling_.

“I thought you’d like it,” Finn says smugly. “Tell me if this is too much.” He drops a few ice cubes into his mouth, chews them, and starts going down on Roman again.

It’s too much. Roman doesn’t tell him. Every time ice slides along his dick, it shocks him, yanks orgasm further out of his reach, but that just means this won’t be over yet. The ice is melting in Finn’s mouth, dripping obscenely down Roman’s cock and over his belly and thighs. He stares at the ceiling and tries not to gasp like a beached fish.

Finn runs out of ice. Now his mouth is just chilly, which is oddly refreshing. “You still with me?” he pulls off to ask.

Roman tosses his hair out of his eyes and nods.

“Say something.”

“I’m still with you.”

“Do you really want me to swallow? If it’s all the same to you, I like seeing the money shot.”

Finn wants to watch his orgasm. The one he’s been thinking about for two and a half weeks now, the one he’s more and more convinced is going to be an out-of-body experience. “Fine by me,” Roman says hoarsely.

“Warn me when you’re close, then.” Finn takes him back in, and this time he reaches down to jerk himself off. There’s always something about that that gets to Roman, the idea that going down on him is such a turn-on that the other person wants to jerk off to it.

Roman’s getting into the rhythm, almost there, the sensation of the last however-long coalescing into pleasure that honestly could be an alien symbiote, a living thing forming to his skin—

Finn pulls off, curling up between Roman’s thighs and convulsing.

Finn has been touching Roman for—really he’s got _no_ idea how long, but a good long time and Roman’s not there yet. While Finn hasn’t been touched at all since those first few minutes and he was still so worked up he came in record time. Of course he didn’t have ice all over his dick, but still, Roman feels smug.

“Sorry,” Finn gets out. “I uh, I once bit a guy while coming and I don’t want to do that to you.”

Roman laughs. His skin is on fire and he really likes Finn. He’s excruciatingly aware of his nipples.

Finn smiles sheepishly, flushed and glowing. “I know they say once bitten, twice shy. But I think if you’re shy, biting someone else might be worse?” He gets back to work.

Roman’s body is getting angry at him for jerking it around. He’s been on the edge so many times he’s overcharged. Every touch is a tiny shock of electricity. He wants to leap up and pound his fist on the mattress, wind up for a Superman punch. Yes, here it comes, his nipples and cock and fingertips and the insides of his elbows and backs of his knees connecting like a diagram of a constellation, stroke, stroke, stroke—

“I’m almost there,” he barely remembers to say.

Finn pulls off, his hand taking over from his mouth. Roman doesn’t fit inside his skin, heat is building in his chest, his head falls back and his mouth opens in a silent scream—

In the end, it’s just an orgasm. But it’s a really good one, and he feels amazing afterwards. Worn out and content and a little shaken up, like after a really good match with someone he respects.

He’d forgotten this feeling, this feeling that winning or losing doesn’t matter, just the game. That what they do is beautiful. He’s so glad to have it back he can feel tears pricking at his eyes.

“You want a glass of water or anything?” Finn sounds nervous again, like he’s waiting for his review. 

“Can I move?” Roman’s voice sounds like he just swallowed broken glass instead of joy.

Finn smiles, surprised. “Oh, yeah, sorry.” He unknots his tie from Roman's wrists and tosses it onto the chair.

Roman slings an arm around Finn’s waist, flipping him beneath him. “A glass of water would be great. In a few minutes.” He rubs his nose into Finn’s neck. 

Finn giggles and squirms. “So...maybe we’ll do it again sometime?”

Roman pulls back so Finn can see how deadly serious he is. “Yes,” he says simply. 

“Yeah.” Finn happily grabs a half-melted ice cube out of the bucket and runs it over his red, sweaty face. “Fuck, I need a shower. And maybe some clean sheets.” He puts his hands over his face. “I hate calling housekeeping.”

Shyness has never been a particular turn-on for Roman. He guesses it is now. “Maybe you should put on some facepaint first to get yourself in the zone.”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that.” Finn’s smile is wicked.

A thrill runs up Roman’s spine. “Yeah? What kind of timeline are we talking about, do you think?”

“Another ten dates, maybe?” He waits for Roman’s answer. Roman’s commitment.

“Sounds good to me.” He sits up, dropping some slivers of ice into his own mouth. Damn, he’s dehydrated after that. “Give me the phone, I’ll call housekeeping.”

“Fuck it.” Finn sits up too, plastering himself against Roman’s shoulder. “I’ll just spend the night in your room. Your sheets aren’t dirty.”

Roman hides a smile. Not yet.


End file.
